Ransom Note: \/\/@R

Here come the politicians,
Up for reelection,
Let’s hear their stance,
Their campaign promises

Listen as bombs drop upon a distant shore

Here come the politicians,
Waist deep in controversy,
Scandal! Impeachment!
What to distract?
What to keep an audience hooked?

Plot twist!

Rain down the bombs upon another distant shore.

Here come the politicians,
What have you done?
It was necessary? Was justified?
For the American born!?

Here posted– the stars and stripes,
A pirate flag,
A heckler’s taunt.

Here come the politicians,
-Our president-
-Our leader-
Our King
has declared War,
To save face,
To save his post,
To reign
Supreme

This is not in our name,
But it is our signature,
Forged,
on this international Ransom note,

Red;
In blood,
Our hands are suddenly covered.

Half a World Away

When you were half a world away
I worried for you,
Worried for your loss,
Worried for your life,
Worried for your mind,
Worried for the time slipping you by,
Worried you would not receive my next letter,
Worried I would lose a friend,
I had yet met,
When you were half a world away,

But I was gifted
Something not every pen pal gets,
I was gifted
From half a world away
The chance to see you,
Know you,
Touch you;
My worries were prayers,
Part of me believes,
Answered by angels I cannot name,
That brought you home,
From half a world away

Half a world away,
I cannot fathom what filled your sight,
What fears might still keep you up at night,
That is not my place to know,
But to just be here,
Writer and reader,
Companion
Near,
Half a world away

Plastic Soldiers

These were never
Your children to worry of,
Never your siblings to protect,
You have seen lives
As a petulant child,
Narcissism blinds your mind,
These were always just toy soldiers,
Cheap plastic to be used,
Abused
Put in harm’s way,
To show off to other children
“Mine is bigger, is better than yours”,
You were always the playground bully,
Burying toy soldiers in the sand,
In the dirt,
But you are just a child,
And they are toys,
No one was really,
actually,
yet
hurt

American Tragedies

Tragedy does not bring change
When from tears
There is money to be made,
Tragedy does not bring change
When from fear
There is money to be made,
Tragedy does not bring change
When peace would kill this market,
Tragedy does not bring change

Something has to change
This daily cycle is insane
When there is only more,
And more,
And more
Of the same,
Of wars abroad
And wars at home,
Where tragedy forces change
But it’s emotional
It’s catastrophic
But for the better
To end this routine
Never comes the change,
There is too much money
To be made.

Where Have All the Hippies Gone?

June 9, 2017

“Where have all the hippies gone?”
She wondered
Ten years later she knows
Her ears and nose still sparkle with jems
And her hair blows in the wind
Taking its untamed shape

But she has grown older
And tired
Of the repeat
Battle
Of moving social,
economic, and human targets
political and physical attacks
That are meant to do just this
Wear the warrior

There is a new generation now
Taking her place in the field
And she and her commrads respectively shift roles
Rows of elders behind
Do the same
Keeping sight
Becoming invisible

Camouflaging
She answers her own question.